


Hey There Dream

by gogity



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, DNF, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hey There Delilah, Light Angst, M/M, Song fic, dnf fanfic, dreamnotfound, hey there delilah fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28844277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gogity/pseuds/gogity
Summary: A thousand miles seem pretty far for love to reach from one heart to the other and maybe love doesn't even matter, when the distance is too great to make out the freckles on his skin or simply, to know whether the feelings are mutual."You don't even know what you do to me."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Hey There Dream

**Author's Note:**

> hi, this is the first chapter of the "hey there delilah" fanfiction that's absolutely overdue. i hope you guys like it and enjoy these words taken from my brain <3
> 
> my tumblr is gogity

“What did you just say?” Dream asks, his voice still clear in contrast to all the noise around him. 

On the screen he’s barely visible, just the blue fabric of a hoodie wrinkling with his fast paced movements and the occasional sight of dirty blonde hair against a New York night sky. 

“I asked where you’re going.” George says flatly. 

He doesn’t mean to be a bummer but his mood has gone down a little over the course of the call, mainly because he didn’t expect Dream’s attention to be this scattered. Which is fair, George has to admit, he is in New York with Sapnap and though Dream promised to let George be a part of this, he can’t be. At least not in the literal sense. 

Dream lifts his phone to grin into the camera. “Times Square.” 

Maybe it’s the excitement in Dream’s voice or just his smile that tugs at the corners of George’s lips and curls them into an involuntary replica of Dream’s. 

“Are you getting me a souvenir?” George asks with exaggerated elation.

Dream chuckles. “Maybe I’ll take a photo with Elmo for you.”

“What do I get out of that?” George furrows his brows, setting his phone up against his monitor on the desk so he can keep editing while talking. He doesn’t really have any intention to take his eyes off the screen though. 

“Well you get to see my pretty face,” Dream snickers, framing his face with his free hand, “and I get to make you jealous with Elmo’s arm around my shoulders.”

“Oh shut up.” George shakes his head, smiling. He moves out of the camera's vision to turn his computer on. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” He can hear Sapnap ask, or rather yell to drown out the increasing volume of an overfilled city, “Put George on speaker.” 

“I can’t hear him when he’s on speaker, I can barely hear him like this.” Dream points to his airpods. 

“Give me one then.” Sapnap protests and George finds it a bit funny that he’s the one third wheeling when George is the one who's thousands of miles away. 

“Sapnap can hear what you’re saying now,” Dream states, his tone a little annoyed, “so no more inappropriate comments please.” 

“I’ll try.” George jokes, his face illuminated by his computer’s lock screen. 

Dream swings his phone to capture Sapnap waving. “Hi George.” 

George waves back. He’s disappointed that the intimacy of him and Dream in a town of millions is already over but he can’t be a hypocrite when he just frowned about not being with them. “Hey.” 

“We’re getting McDonalds.” Sapnap grins and Dream turns the camera back on himself, rolling his eyes. 

George can tell they’re getting closer to the inner city as with every step there’s an additional light source reflecting on Dream’s skin in all sorts of hues. 

And before George can admire the artistry in that, the camera switches to front and a heap of glowing buildings arises like the dawn outside of George’s window.

“Look at that George!” Dream gushes and George doesn’t need to see the smile to know it’s there. 

“It looks crazy.” He comments, he wishes it would make him feel like he’s there. Seeing what they can see, hearing what they hear. With them. With him in those crowded streets, tugging on soft fabric whenever they lose sight of each other, shoulders bumping, distance growing small.

But it doesn’t. He feels sheltered not only in his room but in his emotions. Not only is he being deprived of being with his friends, his feelings are as well. And they’re yearning. 

There’s no definite answer when it comes to what they’re longing for but George knows they do. He does. 

He longs for something in the absence of FaceTime calls, streams and messages and he longs for something even more in Dream’s presence, because it’s not the presence he wishes for.

And it’s audible in his voice. 

“Aw George wishes he was here.” Sapnap cooes. George can’t see the Dream elbowing him, he only assumes it at the sound of a small “Hey!”. 

“You _are_ here with us Georgie.” Dream promises, switching the camera to offer George a consoling smile. It’s sweet and comforting and still it doesn’t waver his frustration. 

“Via FaceTime!” George whines, leaning back in his chair to let out a sigh of unfairness. 

Dream insists. “It’s more than nothing.”

 _It’s less_. 

Because nothing inflicts no feelings. Nothing doesn’t twist and turn like the blooming floret in his chest that doesn’t have the space to grow. Nothing isn’t painful and nothing isn’t longing for a plane ticket to the states just for an embrace. 

It’s less than nothing because it hurts more than it should. 

“Sure” George huffs. He takes his eyes off his phone to stare into the nothingness before his walls. He’s supposed to see them, see the lights, the intimidation of the crowds, the tall buildings towering above them, the loud and frightening city of unseen crimes and still, George is certain, he would feel more comfort and security than his own house could offer. 

Because his house couldn’t offer _him_.

“Here wait,” Dream interjects his thoughts, “Sapnap take a photo!” 

Dream’s phone is awkwardly positioned at his side and between flashes of the street and darkness, George can’t make out what he’s trying to do. 

“Send it to George.” He hears Dream say and return to George’s screen.

“Did you find Elmo?” George asks, adjusting himself in his chair to type in the password of his computer. 

The discord message pops up and he opens it. 

“Better.” Dream grins, and George side-eyes him. He and Sapnap must’ve stopped walking and without moving, Dream shines in pixelated detail. It’s not enough to make out any freckles but it’s enough to keep George’s attention. 

Dream laughs with disbelief. “Look at the photo idiot!” 

George is sure he’s now glowing in the same rosy shade Dream’s face is engulfed in, though that is due to the colours of the Times Square and not embarrassment. 

The photo is of Dream standing in front of a polished stone that bears the name _George M. Cohen_ in black letters. Around him the flickering adverts for Coca-Cola and Broadway shows but the grin on Dream’s lips, eyes closed and wrinkled, and the heart he’s making with his hands are the only thing catching George’s eyes. 

The image isn’t as clear as George wishes it was and despite the boy across the ocean being a little blurry, his beauty is as clear as the water of feelings washing upon George’s shores.

“See it’s basically a photo of us!” Dream beams. 

“You idiot.” He laughs, he doesn’t even care about the intention of the picture or the fact that a name on a statue doesn’t bridge their distance. 

“I think you mean you _pretty_ idiot.” Dream corrects smirking. 

“I can hear and see you both, you corny fucks,” Sapnap interrupts, “please relocate your phone sex to the privacy of a McDonald’s stall without me.” 

“What?” Dream turns his head to send a jab at Sapnap, “Give me the airpod!” 

“No, no, no!” Sapnap yells, the image Dream projects on George’s screen is just a colourful blur of motion. 

He can’t help but feel a hint of jealousy, knowing he can’t be the victim of Dream’s banter. At least not physically. Of playful shoves and remarks, small kicks under the table to regain composure or just to tease. 

His eyes wander back to the photo that’s still filling his monitor. 

He right clicks to save it and reminds himself of taking a screenshot of their FaceTime call for no specific reason, just to keep it. 

“There we go,” their yells and exhausted breaths quiet down and the familiar face comes back into view, “now we’re alone again, Sapnap’s getting McDonalds.” 

“You _do_ look pretty in this.” George remarks softly, his eyes shifting between the two Dream’s smiling at him. 

“I do?” Dream asks and George chooses to ignore the irony in his voice that’s clearly there to make this into more of a joke than George intends. 

“Yes, you do.” He closes the image and picks up his phone, forcing his attention back onto the Dream that’s live and George wishes the call would let him see whether Dream’s blushing.

He’s probably not. “You’re blunt tonight, what’s the reason?” 

George reaches for his neck, it feels hot under his touch. _Jealousy, probably._

“No idea.” 

He’s revealed enough shameful honesty tonight and it’s not like Dream recognises it as such anyways. At last it's only embarrassing. 

“I’m sorry you can’t be here.” Dream frowns. He’s sitting down somewhere. 

“Me too,” George admits, “I should’ve bought the tickets when they were still available.” 

The regret that's been keeping him awake tugs at his heart. 

He hates thinking about this. How this missed opportunity is his fault and he can’t do anything about it but feel miserable. 

“Well one day we’re gonna do this with you there.” Dream assures. 

George sighs, leaning tiredly against the back of his chair. He’s been up for so long.

“Still sucks.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, “are you tired?

“I think I’ve been awake for about 24 hours.” George chuckles, yawning at the thought. 

Dream shakes his head. “Go sleep you idiot, we’re gonna eat now anyways.”

“No.” George protests, he’s conflicted and caught in the dilemma of either going to sleep now and missing out on the next few hours of Dream and Sapnaps lives or staying awake just to be asleep for their next adventure.

“I’ll transcribe everything, you’ll get an exclusive look into my diary!” Dream chirps, “You have to ignore the page where I wrote your name with thousands of hearts surrounding it though.” 

“You’re stupid.” The corners of George’s mouth curl up briefly. Dream is an idiot for continuously making these kinds of jokes. Or maybe George is for the way they make him feel. 

Dream’s gaze deviates from George, he turns his head. “Sapnap is coming back, I’m gonna hang up okay Georgie?” 

_Georgie._

“Or just,” George pauses, “don’t?”

“I’ll make it quick and painless,” Dream decides against George’s will, “get some sleep goodnight!” 

“Wait-” He’s interrupted by his screen switching back to his home screen and with that both the call and George’s smile die. 

At least he doesn’t have to dwell on the feeling of loneliness that’s promised whenever a call ends, as exhaustion draws level with it quickly. 

He gets up from his chair and walks the few steps over to his bed, collapsing on the mattress with frustration. 

He likes to imagine that his friends cease from existence when the screen fades to black, leaving nothing to long for. But a quiet buzz from his phone, that he’d tossed next to his pillow, is a gentle reminder that he is, in fact, missing out. 

It’s another text from Sapnap, this time a selfie of him and Dream with McDonald's cups, the black lettered _George_ in between them.

“ **F** **or the crybaby :))** ” the message below the image reads and George responds with a dry “ **haha** ”. 

He saves it as well, like basically any picture he’s gotten of Dream for no other reason than the fear of losing it in the heap of messages they send each other on a daily basis. The only thing George refrains from is taking screenshots of the snaps Dream sends, simply because he doesn’t want to feed Dream’s ego. 

He settles on his back with nothing but the faint sound of UK mornings surrounding him and he misses the overwhelming noise of Manhattan and the clear contrast of Dream’s soft voice against it. Regret makes him want to smother himself with the pillow he’s laying on, cringing at all the what-ifs that would drive him insane if he let them and he then remembers that he forgot to take a screenshot of the tinted lights washing over Dream’s face. 

George tries not to give those feelings room when they demand an ocean as big as the Atlantic separating him from the very cause of his despair. Despite the feeling in his chest stating the contrary, he doesn’t exactly like what Dream does to him. 

The hot flushes, the automatic smiles that he can’t stifle, the thoughts that hunt him down at night when his mind wanders uncontrollably, seeking comfort where there is none. He asks himself why even lets himself feel but it's a simple question with a simple response. He can't help it and frankly, there is always a glimmer of hope that keeps the space he has created within himself and the entity of those feelings from going completely dark. 

And as he turns his head to his window, where the sun is already peeking through the trees, he wonders if it saw Dream in New York before the night broke loose and came here to tell George all about it. And he wonders if the moon tells Dream the same. 

  
  



End file.
